


Deep Dark of the Night

by InsidiousIntent



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex is all alone in this fic, All Hallows Roswell, Gen, Haunting, Horror, semi-angst, unknown horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 13:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20892845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsidiousIntent/pseuds/InsidiousIntent
Summary: The whole world was a dazzling white, and all Alex could do was sigh at the windows and drink more whiskey. It was getting late, he figured, but the snow and the darkness didn’t help with the accurate time passage measure. Alex started up Jessica Jones and settled in to watch her kick some serious ass.And that was when the noise started.





	Deep Dark of the Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is for All Hallows' Roswell prompt Haunting. 
> 
> This was shamelessly stolen from Creepypasta stories. Many thanks to [estel_willow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow) and the rest of the regular crew for letting me scream at you about this insanity <3

* * *

It’s been snowing forever. Every time it seems like it’s about to let up, the sky clouds over with that flat white paper look and down it comes, more goddamn snow. Alex stopped shoveling the deck and the stairs after lunchtime. His dad used to be real specific about shoveling the front deck and Alex still bears the scars from the times he did not remember to shovel. He felt a vicious thrill in knowing that he could just sit here and not give a fuck about the shoveling now, and there is nothing Jesse Manes could do about it from his hospital bed in Roswell General. 

The holiday season brought a fresh layer of hurt to the people in his life this year. The resurrection of Rosa brought joy back to the Ortechos, but added the cruel juxtaposition of Max’s semi-death. He was there when Michael and Isobel entombed Max into his pod, and he saw the way they looked like a piece of each of them was now entombed with Max. 

Alex himself was also torn - his dad’s attack on Kyle and eventual coma gave him the breath of freedom he had been craving since age eleven, but it came at the price of heartbreak at Michael’s hands. Life never wanted Alex to hold on to happiness, he should have learned this lesson by now. So he stepped aside for the moment, intent on being helpful, and finding a way to dismantle the torture empire built by his family. 

So there Alex was, holed up in his cabin, fully stocked up on supplies and up to his eyeballs in Caulfield data. It was late already, so he told himself he’d do the safe thing and shovel tomorrow. Maybe he’d convince Kyle into doing it for him. Dude loved working out anyways, Alex was doing him a favor. Tonight Alex just wanted to stay inside in his makeshift fortress of solitude and stay warm. Maybe catch up on his Netflix list, and drink some whiskey. 

OK maybe a lot of whiskey. There was no one around to judge him anyways. 

Alex had just decided to get really going on the whiskey, the buzz sitting pleasantly live behind his teeth. He hadn’t looked outside for a while, and the snow was accumulating in piles outside dampening his mood and every sound outside the cabin. The whole world was a dazzling white, and all Alex could do was sigh at the windows and drink more whiskey. It was getting late, he figured, but the snow and the darkness didn’t help with the accurate time passage measure. Alex started up Jessica Jones and settled in to watch her kick some serious ass. 

And that was when the noise started.

It was very faint at first, so Alex thought it was just the snow, or mixed in hail hitting the roof or the porch. But then it got louder, and soon Alex couldn’t ignore the sound - _ tap tap tap tap _. 

Alex realized no snow or even hail made such synchronized sound. He craned his head to focus on the sound and there it was again - tap tap tap tap. It wasn’t fast, nor was it random. Real slow and deliberate. _Tap tap tap_ _TAP_. 

Alex kept Jessica on in the background and moved slowly towards the window blinds. If it was someone trying to break in, or some homeless guy trying to ask for help, Alex would still need to check first. He approached the window and pinched the blinds slowly to make eye contact as soon as the tapping started again. 

But there was no one there. Alex stood there baffled, the tapping had been right at that window, just a second ago. He knew he wasn't drunk enough to have hallucinated it. 

He returned to the couch, shaking off his confusion. Whoever it was must have hauled ass instead of trying something with him in this weather. He got back to the show, rewinding the episode so he could catch up again. Jessica’s inner monologue may have hit home a little too hard for him, but Alex connected with her inner goodness to a likely unhealthy level. 

He was just getting into the episode where the bad guy was starting to go after Jessica, when he heard something else right outside the window. It started off faint again, getting louder until it could be heard over the noise of the television. This time Alex paused the TV so he could make out the noise more clearly. And Alex immediately wished he hadn’t. 

Someone was talking outside his door. 

It was a low voice, and Alex couldn’t even make out whether it was a man or a woman. And they were talking, but Alex realized that wasn’t right. The voice was just making noises, constant gibberish like a mixture of grunts and wheezes that didn’t actually mean anything. Like a baby learning how to talk. 

Whatever it was out there had heard Alex pause the TV, and the gibberish got louder. For a horrible second Alex thought it was his dad, but then immediately remembered Kyle’s terrified call and the hospital visits, even as late as yesterday. But he felt his head go fuzzy around the edges, like when you sit right next to a white noise machine. Alex gulped down the remaining whiskey and went around to check through the windows again. 

There was still no one out there. Only snow. 

And suddenly the gibberish stopped. 

Alex walked back to the couch a little shaken but was careful not to restart his show. He was only just starting to contemplate getting more alcohol when he heard running, full speed running back and forth on the porch, something with big heavy footsteps and speed. 

Every couple laps or so, whatever it was would throw itself at the front wall of the cabin. The wall wouldn’t really budge, Alex was confident in the structural integrity of the cabin, and the thing - _ whatever _ it was - would make an odd gurgling sound, not like pain, but more like it was very pleased with itself. 

Alex was panicking now, starting to get scared at what was happening and not sure if it was real or a drunken hallucination, but after the latest crash against the wall, he couldn’t help but scream “STOP IT!”

And it did. Everything got really quiet, and Alex had just decided to start looking for his phone to call someone - Michael or Kyle or even the Sheriff - when the voice came back: 

“-_ exlexalexalexalexalex _”

It was the same voice as before and it made Alex’s name sound like a garbled noise, like it wasn’t sure how to fit the name in its mouth and produce the right noises in the right order. 

“Lexalexlexalex_ alexlalex _” It wasn’t running anymore, and Alex could hear it shifting from one foot to another, like a hyper child trying to stand still when summoned in the middle of a game. 

And it was standing right outside the door. 

“Do you miss me lexlexlex?” it said and Alex felt his heart fall straight into the pit of his stomach. That voice was impossible. “Don’t you miss me lexlexlex you miss me don’t you lexlexlex? Oh Alex your daddy knows, oh yes your daddy’s here Alexlexlexlex…”

That voice sounded like Jesse Manes, but not really. Like a fun-house mirror looks like you but not really. 

“Come outside Alex_ lexlex _ ...” it said, “ _ daddy’s _ here, daddy’s back, lexexexexlex, open the door, you forgot to shovel the walkway, _ exlexexlex _ , daddy’s awful _ mad at you _…”

Alex looked down and saw himself standing at the door, a hand stretched out towards the handle. He didn’t even remember getting up from the couch and walking to the door. 

“I didn’t forget to shovel the walkway,” Alex said in a careful voice, slowly walking back from the door. “I will shovel when it stops snowing.”

“Oh _exlexlexalex_ don’t you see it will _never_ stop snowing? Oh aren’t you _sorry_ lexlexlex? You’re **_going to be sorry now_** alexlexlexlex, come out come out, come see your _daaadeee_…”

“My dad’s not out there,” Alex said, more to himself than to whatever was standing out there. He felt reality reasserting itself around him. “My dad’s not out there, and there’s a giant snowstorm, he’s in a coma and I don’t know _ what _ you are but you’re not my dad.”

The gibbering noises started up again. The thing stopped saying Alex’s name and went back to running back and forth on the porch like it was throwing a tantrum. 

Alex didn’t know why this thing- this entity- latched onto the representation of his dad. Maybe because he was the first thing Alex thought of? Or maybe because he had done his best not to think about his dad for a long time? He couldn’t figure it out. 

The thing on the porch kept running back and forth for five hours. Running out onto the walkway and running back full speed at the cabin, trying to fling itself through a wall. Alex never started the TV again, and he didn’t move from his seat on the couch, staring straight at the windows and willing his body to stay awake. 

Finally the sun came up, and the heavy snow filled clouds started lifting slowly enough for the ivory light of the sun to shine through on the crystalline white surface of the snow. The thing finally stopped, and the utter silence around the cabin rang in Alex’s ears as loudly as the IED explosion that took his leg. 

Alex waited another hour before he could will his body to move towards the door. The panic and terror of the night hadn’t left his mind yet, and he didn’t know if he was ready to confront whatever it was outside the door. What if it never left? What if it just stopped to give Alex a false sense of security so he’d open the door? What if it was _ waiting _for him? 

But he couldn’t let it terrorize him forever. Alex had learned to face his fear and keep moving forward for over two decades, and he wasn’t going to stop now. So he gathered up all of his courage and finally stepped out onto the porch. 

He was grateful that the snow was not deep enough to be a problem, but thick enough to leave tracks. And Alex could see them clear as day. The prints that went all the way out onto the walkway and came up to the front walls of his cabin. They were everywhere, even on the ceiling of the porch awning. 

But there were no footprints. Only hands. They were _ glowing hand prints. _

Alex stood staring at his porch covered in shining, glowing hand prints and tried his best to keep from screaming in terror.

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry about all things malex with me on [Tumblr](https://insidious-intent.tumblr.com/)


End file.
